Actor's Head
by WildClover27
Summary: A head injury creates problems, not just for the confidence man, but for the others on the team.  Part One of a two part story.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Kit turned the van up the drive to the Mansion. Terry took her crossed booted feet down from the dashboard. The bottles in the back jangled over the gravel drive.

"It's amazing they don't break with all the potholes in the road," mused Terry. "Sure you don't want help unloading?"

"No," replied the red-head. "Shiv knows I hate doing the pickup. He can darn well unload them himself."

Terry grinned. Her ex-boyfriend had really gotten a handful when he became involved with her best friend. It had amazed her that the two had hit it off. It also amazed her that the pairing of the two didn't bother her in the least.

As Kit pulled the van up in front of the house, they both noted the presence of the Packard. "Guess they finally made it back," remarked the red-head.

"They're only two days late," said Terry. "Didn't hear anything from G-2, so I guess everything's okay."

"Hope you left food out," laughed Kit.

"I didn't," replied Terry.

"That's okay. This way they won't take you for granted."

Terry climbed out of the vehicle. "Thanks for a nice boring trip."

"Oh, anytime. I just love sitting there counting boxes of liquor, don't you?"

"Just as long as I don't have to load and unload," Terry replied with a grin.

She walked around the front of the van and waved as Kit backed up and turned back down the driveway. Terry bounced up the steps and into the house. . The stony silence that greeted her drew her up short. She looked at the unhappy faces of Casino, Chief and Goniff at the game table and the bottle of whiskey being passed around. A chill went through her.

"Craig or Actor?" she asked.

"Actor," said Casino.

Terry bounded up the stairs and strode through the open door to the Italian's bedroom. Craig was sitting on the edge of the bed next to the unconscious form of his second in command. Terry approached and sat on the opposite side, taking in the pale, unresponsive face and the white bandage around Actor's head.

"Bullet bounced off his skull," said Craig dully.

Terry laid the backs of her fingers against the man's cheek. It was cool and clammy. She rounded on her brother. "Why isn't he in a hospital?"

"He's been in two already," said Craig. "One in Germany, and one here. The one here said it's a concussion and there isn't anything more they can do. It's going to take time."

"You had him in a hospital in Germany?" asked Terry in amazement.

"I had to do something," said Craig. "He wasn't waking up."

"How bad a concussion?" asked Terry.

Craig finally looked at his sister. "He's unconscious most of the time. When he is awake, he doesn't know who he is, who we are, where we are. And he doesn't speak English."

"Oh that's just wonderful," said Terry. "Anything else?"

Craig nodded. "Every time we try to sit him up, he throws up."

"Great. Just great."

Craig threw a startled look at his sister. For a moment she almost sounded like Casino. Terry wasn't paying attention to him. She touched the dark hair that still had dried blood in it. The least somebody could have done was clean him up. There was old dried blood in Actor's ear and in a crackled line down his neck. She shook her head.

"What did they do for the wound?" she asked.

"Not much," replied Craig. "Just some sulfa and a dressing."

"They didn't stitch it?" asked Terry in outrage.

Craig shook his head. "Folkestone said it's been too many days now." He watched his sister frown as she studied the con man's face. "What do you want to do?"

"I guess take a look at the wound and get him cleaned up a little more before he comes to again," she said. "He ought to have a walloping good headache."

Craig started the water running in the sink in the bathroom and got a basin while the water heated up. Terry went to get an aid kit. Garrison supported Actor's head while Terry unwound the roller gauze and removed the bloody dressing underneath. There was a slightly jagged half inch wide furrow going from the corner of the man's left eyebrow back into his hair.

"Oh, that's not going to make him happy," remarked Terry, "as vain as he is."

"Well, he depends on his looks for a lot of what he does," Craig rationalized. "Can you fix it?"

"I think I can make it a little less noticeable when it heals."

Garrison watched as his sister began to clean the skin around the wound. Even though the Italian was unconscious, she still strove to be gentle. She continued to clean his ear and down his neck. Craig took his first real close look at the wound. It wasn't too awfully deep, the edges were clean and bed looked pink and healthy. Left unattended, it would still leave a fairly nasty scar. Craig held Actor's head turned to the right as Terry tried to clean the dried blood from his hair. It wasn't coming out well.

"Peroxide?" suggested Garrison.

Terry looked at her brother with raised eyebrows. "If I leave peroxide on there long enough for it to loosen that, you're going to have to explain to him why he has a blond spot in all that dark hair."

"I'll pass," said Craig.

Terry gave up on the hair for now and went to fashioning butterfly strips. She rinsed her hands with alcohol and gently worked the edges of the wound. Satisfied, she started taping the edges together but not too tightly. It would leave a smaller scar, but let any infection that might develop get out. More sulfa powder followed and a gauze dressing was placed over it. She wrapped his head again with roller gauze and taped it. Craig let Actor's head down carefully onto the pillow. Even with the pain and movement, the man still did not awaken.

Terry looked at her brother's worn and haggard face. She squeezed his arm sympathetically. "Why don't you go get some sleep?" she suggested. "You look exhausted."

Craig looked at the Italian in indecision.

"Hey," said Terry softly, "I'll take good care of him."

"I know," said Craig. "Thanks, Sis."

Garrison went out and silently closed the door behind him.

Terry cleaned up after herself and then returned to sit beside the Italian. She contemplated him for a bit. Most of the time he looked older than his thirty-nine years. Asleep or unconscious, he appeared younger. As she watched, his eyebrows furrowed and he began muttering. It wasn't English or Italian. Maybe Greek. Whatever it was she didn't understand a word of it.

"Actor," she said quietly. "Are you with me?"

The dark eyes opened and tried to focus on her. There was no recognition. Terry was taken aback by the apprehension she saw on his face. She had never seen Actor out of control of his emotions other than hot anger when pushed too far. His eyes darted around the room, always returning to her face. His eyelids blinked hard.

"Do you know where you are?" asked Terry using a soothing voice.

He did not answer. The eyes narrowed and he watched her with distrust. Terry tried a different tack and switched to strictly Italian.

"Actor," she said soothingly. "It's okay. You are safe. No one is going to hurt you. You are in England. At the house we all live in. I am Teresa. You know me. We are friends."

Actor's eyes squeezed shut and he looked at her again in frustration. She touched his head. "Easy. Don't try to force it. You have a concussion. It will get better."

He continued to try to focus on her face, expression wary. Terry wished he would say something so she knew what language to speak in. She asked him in English if he understood. No answer. She tried Italian and French. Still no answer. Hesitating a moment, she tried German. He did not answer that either. Well, that was the extent of the languages they spoke in common. Slowly his eyelids sagged and he passed out again.

A couple hours later, he awakened again. He continued to try to focus on her face.

"Are you thirsty?" she asked in Italian.

"Si."

That was a start. Terry supported his head and held the water glass she had fetched earlier to his lips for him to take a couple swallows. He lay back down.

"Grazie"

She nodded. Suddenly his eyes widened and he gagged. She helped him quickly to his side and held the wastebasket while he vomited, moaning at the sharp pains that stabbed his skull. When he was done, she helped him to lay flat.

"Guess we won't do that again," she said wryly in English.

He looked at her warily.

She switched back to Italian. "No more. Just rest."

Terry took a wet cloth and wiped his face. He blinked a couple times, trying to stay alert, but passed out again.

It was late afternoon when Garrison entered the room. He was dressed in his uniform pants and shirt again. Worriedly, he walked up to look down on Actor's face. "Did he wake up at all?"

"A couple times," replied Terry. "I got two words in Italian out of him. He still doesn't know me or where we are from the looks of it. I tried to give him water, but it didn't stay down."

Craig looked at her sympathetically. "I have to go see Schaeffer," he said apologetically.

"Tell the little twit to go . . ."

"Terry…" Garrison cut her off with an amused warning.

She grinned at him. Her expression changed to a frown. "I don't know what to do about dinner," she said. "I don't want to leave him alone for that long while I make it."

Craig shook his head. "Goniff said he would make dinner tonight."

Terry gave her brother a look conveying how she felt about Goniff's interpretation of cooking. Craig laughed, feeling the same way.

"Hurry back," teased Terry.

"I doubt it," replied her brother. "Oh, don't wait dinner for me."

"Think you're going to get out of it?" laughed Terry. "We'll be sure to save you a plate."

A couple hours after Garrison had left, Chief silently entered the room carrying a plate of some unidentifiable substance that smelled better than it looked. The Indian handed the plate to Terry.  
>"What is it?" she asked.<p>

"Beats me," Chief drawled. "I ain't about to try it and find out."

"Some warrior you are," said Terry cautiously poking at the conglomeration with a fork. She popped a tiny bite in her mouth and rolled it around on her tongue. "Not bad. I still don't know what it is." She set it aside.

Chief walked closer to the bed and looked down at Actor. "How's he doin'?"

Terry shook her head. "Comes awake for a few seconds. Goes out again. He still doesn't seem to know me, or where we are, or English for that matter."

"He gonna be all right?" The younger man seemed genuinely concerned.

"I hope so," replied Terry. "Head injuries are funny things."

"Anything I can do?" offered Chief.

"Yeah," Terry replied. She handed the plate of food back to him. "Dump that in the toilet and tell Goniff I said it was good."

Chief grinned, "You want me to lie for you?"

"You want me to make us sandwiches at midnight?"

Chief disappeared into the bathroom.

Garrison didn't return until almost eleven that night. It had been a long debrief session with Maj. Schaeffer and Col. Hammond. Craig was hungry and tired. The common room was empty when he came in. He hung his uniform jacket up in his office and headed for the kitchen. His head was in the refrigerator when Chief came up silently next to him. Craig congratulated himself on not jumping when he noticed the Indian.

Pulling a bowl of brown something out, Garrison held it up to him. "What is it?" he asked hesitantly.

"Don't know, Warden," replied Chief. "I didn't eat it and I flushed Terry's for her."

Craig grinned and shoved it back on the shelf. He started pulling out fixings for sandwiches. "Want a couple?" he asked his scout.

"Sure."

Craig set about making sandwiches for the three of them. Chief straddled a chair and rested his chin on folded arms atop the back, watching the procedure.

"How's Actor?" Garrison asked.

Chief shrugged. "I don't see much change in him. Been leavin' him and Terry alone." He paused. "You think he'll be okay?"

"I hope so," replied Garrison. "Head injuries are kind of tricky."

"That's what Terry said."

Craig piled sandwiches on a plate, threw on some pickles and handed a gallon jug of milk to Chief. The younger man got three glasses and filled them with milk before returning the jug to the refrigerator. They took the food and went upstairs into Actor's room.

Terry looked up and grinned widely at the plate of sandwiches. She plucked one off the top when Craig held the plate out to her. Chief handed her a glass of milk before sitting on the chair at Actor's desk. Craig sat down on the other side of the bed, beside the unconscious man.

"Well?" asked Garrison.

"He goes in and out," said Terry between bites. "We've graduated to a couple words in Italian. I guess it's an improvement." She gave a half smile at her patient, part affection and part worry. She looked at her brother. "How'd the debrief go?"

Craig shook his head. "More like an interrogation without the torture. I had to explain why I had Actor in a Kraut hospital."

"How _did_ you do that?" asked his sister.

"Easy. He was out. We were in SS uniform. Our car was fired upon by partisans. The Colonel was hit in the head. We sped away and stopped at the first town with a hospital."

Terry stared at him. "And if he had woken up speaking Italian, then what?"

"I'd've winged it. He didn't, so it didn't become an issue. Got him looked after and requested he be transferred to Berlin. Got an ambulance with two very quiet drivers and got out of there."

"Getting pretty good at this aren't you?" asked Terry.

"Good teacher," replied Craig, taking another sandwich.

"Which one?" asked Terry snidely.

"Him," Garrison nodded toward the man on the bed. "He's better than Zia and my other teacher had a – uh – different curriculum."

Terry almost choked on her sandwich. Garrison grinned and Chief looked between the two trying to comprehend what that meant.

"Actor could probably give you pointers on that subject too," Terry shot back at her brother.

Craig grinned at his sister, reverting back to their old bantering. "I don't need any pointers."

"How would you know?" asked the girl. "I don't see you out there practicing."

"Terry, shut up," Garrison was suddenly just a little bit embarrassed where this conversation had turned in front of two of his men, even if one was unconscious.

Terry turned to the Indian. "Chief, don't ask him. Or at least not within my hearing. Some things I don't want to know about."

"I ain't askin' nuthin'," said the younger man. He figured he knew what they were talking about now and it amused him because the four cons had been wondering about Garrison's apparent lack of recreation. Granted the man never really had to time to enjoy any recreation.

"Go to bed," said Terry with affection. "Both of you."

"You going to stay up all night with him?" asked Craig returning to seriousness.

"Of course," replied his sister. "I didn't just come back from a mission. All I did was spend all day watching booze getting loaded into the van." She smiled at her brother. "Besides, your Italian is atrocious. I don't know why you didn't keep it up."

"Because the Point was pushing French and German."

Both men got up and headed for the door. Craig turned back and Chief paused with him.

"If you need help," said Garrison, "come get me."

"You can get me too," added Chief. "I don't mind helpin' with Actor."

"Thanks, Guys," smiled Terry.

She watched the door after they left. It made her happy to see Chief opening up a bit. She knew Actor was helping him with his reading and language on the sly.

The rest of the night was a repeat of earlier. Several times, the man moved in and out of consciousness. Actor's fear and distrust were still evident. She tried to sooth him in Italian when he grew apprehensive and supported him when he retched. Terry was terribly worried, but knew there was nothing more that she could do except to be there with him.

The man rose slowly through the aching pressure in his head to awareness. Cautiously, he opened his eyes. The room was dimly lit, so the light did not assault his eyes as badly as it could have. Not moving, he swiveled his gaze to take in his surroundings. The recent past was a jumble of flashes. There were two sterile hospital wards, one with German doctors and one with British. Now this. He was in a bedroom. It seemed familiar, but he just could not recognize anything. His perusal brought his focus to the young woman sitting on the bed beside him. Her head was down, chin on her chest, asleep. Wavy auburn hair was pinned back from her face to fall on her shoulders. Though she wore no makeup, she was pretty. Not beautiful, but most certainly nice to look at. He remembered her. She had been with him the other times he had awakened here. She had smiled at him and been gentle and caring. What was her name? He knew it. She had told him. The man racked his fuzzy brain. Teresa! At least he remembered something. If he could just remember who he was and where he was . . . His mouth was so dry. He really wanted something to drink. Should he wake her? She had to be uncomfortable like that.

"Scusi . . . signorina?" he spoke tentatively.

The auburn head flew up and green eyes looked at his. A warm smile came to her face. It made him somehow feel safe.

"How do you feel?" she asked in Italian.

"Thirsty," he replied. "May I have some water, please?"

"Naturalmente."

He tried to sit up, but the movement caused dizziness, and he barely got his head off the pillow. The young woman moved to his side and helped him rise up enough to take a sip from the water glass she held to his lips. He took another sip and turned his face into her. It was an effort to stay upright even this tiny bit. A faint whiff of lavender and vanilla crossed his nostrils as she leaned over him to ease him back on the pillow. It was a most pleasant scent and it tried to trigger something in his mind. That something would not come. He grimaced in frustration as she moved back to her previous seat. His left temple throbbed. He reached a hand up to rub it. His hand was caught between both of hers and held, the hands lightly rubbing his.

"Don't touch it," she said softly. "You'll start it bleeding again."

They watched each other. There seemed to be affection in her expression. She obviously knew him. He wished he could remember her better. Merde, he wished he could remember him! The frustration must have shown on his face, because her smile widened and she squeezed his hand.

"It's okay, Actor," she said to him. "Just go back to sleep, Caro. It will get better."

Actor? Why did she call him that? Was he a performer? Why did she not call him by a name? Did he not have one? Caro? The effort to think this through was draining. He closed his eyes and drifted back into a pain-free cocoon.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next morning, Terry sponged Actor off while he was unconscious. She stepped out and let Craig handle certain bodily functions that she figured would embarrass Actor if they were attended to by her. When he was done, Terry re-entered the room and took up her vigil again. Goniff and Casino had both come in to check on the Italian. There were no jokes or smart remarks, just a sincere concern for a friend. Both offered their help in any way they could.

About ten o'clock, Terry heard the phone ring downstairs. A few minutes later, Craig entered the room. He was unhappy.

"Hammond wants to see me again."

"They wouldn't?" asked Terry in dread.

Craig shrugged. "Won't know until I get there."

Terry yawned.

"You need sleep," admonished her brother.

Terry nodded in agreement. "I don't want to leave him alone."

"You don't have to. Casino speaks a little Italian."

Terry looked at her brother with humor. "Would you like to have amnesia and wake up to Casino?"

Craig grinned. He gave his sister a one armed hug and kiss to the top of her head. "I'll be back."

As he reached the door, Terry said, "Don't let him send you on another mission right away."

"Like I have a choice?"

"I told you to tell . . ."

"I know . . .,"Craig cut her off and shut the door.

She grinned as she heard him laugh down the steps. A few minutes later, Casino entered the room.

"Go to bed," said the stocky safecracker in Italian.

"Grazie," she answered, relinquishing her seat. "Call me if he wakes up," she requested in English.

"I'll call you if he makes any sense. Now get outta here."

Casino sat in the chair beside the con man's bed and studied him. The Italian didn't look so damn arrogant right now. Granted the man would probably never look ordinary, but laying in bed with his head bandaged, he didn't have that holier than thou look about him. He was more on a level with the rest of them. Casino sincerely did hope the Italian would get better. It was nice having him around when one of them got hurt on a mission. And the man was damned good at getting them out of trouble, but he wasn't about to let Actor know that. Besides, he still preferred having Terry taking care of him when he was injured. She fussed over him and he didn't have to be so much on guard.

It was one thing letting Terry see the not quite so hard side of the safecracker. She just took it in stride and never used it against him. Now, Actor was another story. As much as the confidence man thought he was above the other three cons, he was still a con. Any concern Casino might show for the man, he figured would be taken as a sign of weakness and exploited.

Actor slowly opened his eyes. He sensed the girl was not there, but someone else was. Some instinct he could not name made him wary. He tilted his head to look at the man in the chair. Dark hooded eyes watched him from an insolent expression. Neither said anything for a moment.

"'Bout time you woke up," said Casino.

The other man was silent.

"I ain't talkin' Italian to yuh," continued the safecracker. "You speak English just like the rest of us." If he were truthful, which at this moment he chose not to be, Casino would have to admit the con man spoke better English than he did.

Actor continued to remain silent, expression guarded, covering his astonishment that he did indeed understand the other man. He did not know who the man was, but he did not seem to be a friendly sort. The Italian decided non-communication was probably the best plan of action right now.

Casino watched the hazel eyes studying him. He wondered why Actor wasn't talking. Maybe he had forgotten how. The silence irked the safecracker.

"You need anything?" Casino asked. A careful, minute shake of the head was the only response. "You want I should wake up Terry?"

Terry. Teresa? The young woman? Actor knew she had been with him the entire night and most of the previous day. Though he would have preferred her company, it would be remiss of him to interrupt her rest. He indicated no again. He could tell the stocky man was getting annoyed, so he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

Terry was half dozing on her bed when she heard the door quietly open. A man moved slowly to her bedside, but she knew by the footsteps it was her brother.

"I'm awake," she said without bothering to open her eyes.

The mattress sagged a little as Craig sat down beside her. She opened one eye. The expression on his face brought the other eye open.

"Oh, no," she groaned.

"I wish you had been there so you could have told him to go to hell when he gave me the next mission."

Terry sat up next to her brother. "I hope he doesn't expect Actor to go along. His brains are so scrambled I doubt he could even get off the bed."

"No, Actor's staying here with you." Craig looked at her, "Can you handle him alone?"

"Probably, but he isn't going to be happy about it." She sighed. "When do you leave and how long are you going to be gone?"

"We leave tonight, two days to get in, two days to pull off the caper, two days to get out."

"Where?"

"Greece."

Terry sat up and leaned her forehead on Craig's shoulder. "They don't even give you time to recover from one job before they send you on another. This keeps up and mark my words I'll have all of you here in pieces at the same time."

"I hope not," said Craig, fervently.

Terry got up, not totally rested, but better. She met Casino in the hall.

"He understands English," said Casino.

"What did he say?" asked Terry.

"Nothin'. Didn't say a word."

Terry frowned, then gave herself a mental kick. She didn't doubt Actor would not respond to Casino. She had to then stifle a laugh.

Casino looked at Terry with an expression that put her on alert. "Uh, Warden says we got another mission. I don't suppose you could take some time out from Beautiful to make us somethin' decent to eat before we go?"

Now Terry did have to laugh. "Let me go check on him and I'll see what I can throw together for supper."

With a happy smile, Casino went on downstairs to the briefing. Terry shook her head and headed down the hall to the Italian's bedroom.

She quietly entered the room and eased a hip onto the bed. Actor's eyes opened. She swore she saw relief in them. It was so strange being able to read the con man so easily.

"Hi Actor. Sorry I left you for so long." She smiled at him. "Parli inglese?"

"Yes," replied the man. "Please do not apologize. You have been most kind to me and I must be quite a burden."

Now that sounded like Actor talking. "You are not a burden, Caro," she replied. "How do you feel?"

"I am . . .", he struggled for a moment, losing the English. "Non c'e male."

Terry grinned, "That'll work. Do you remember anything?"

"No. I am sorry. I would very much like to remember you," said Actor sincerely.

"You will in time."

The con man frowned. "The man who was in here. Who is he?"

"That was Casino. He's part of our group."

"He seems very . . . brusco."

Terry grinned, "That's Casino, brusque."

"Why do you call me 'Actor'?" inquired the con man. "And that man is 'Casino'. Those are not names."

"They are nicknames," replied Terry. "Actor is what you prefer to be called."

"You may call me by my name," said the man.

"Well, I don't really know what it is. You have always been Actor." Oh it would be mean to take advantage of the man's confused state, but the opportunity was too tempting. "If you tell me your real name, I will call you by it."

Actor frowned, thinking. "There are names in my mind, but none of them sound right. I don't know what my name is."

Terry had to turn her head to hide a grin. She had always said the man had so many aliases he couldn't possibly remember what the real one was."

She turned back and gave him a sympathetic smile. "That's all right, Caro. I'm sure it will come back to you eventually when your mind clears."

Actor frowned again. "Teresa, you say we are friends. Yet you call me Caro. Is that not Italian for dear?"

"Yes," she smiled. "It's part of the game we play."

"And do I call you Cara?"

"Yes, you do," she replied.

Actor smiled. "I like that. May we continue the game?"

"By all means." Terry was almost wishing he wouldn't remember her. This was a different sweeter Actor.

"You are a very nice woman, Cara," said Actor. His eyes were getting heavy.

"Thank you. You are a very nice man," she replied.

"I hope so," he murmured.

Terry reached up and lightly stroked his head. "Why don't you take a little nap? I have to go down and cook dinner for the others. They are leaving tonight on another mission. I'll bring you up something to eat a little later."

"Will you eat with me?"

"Of course," assured Terry.

He closed his eyes and in a moment was asleep. Terry watched his features relax and she smiled.

Goniff waited until Terry was busy in the kitchen before casually going upstairs. He snuck silently into Actor's bedroom. Inching closer to the bed, Goniff studied the man. He looked a little pale to the Englishman's eye.

"Uh – Actor?"

The Italian opened his eyes and looked at the slight man with the blue-eyed gamin face topped with a messy thatch of blond hair. The man's face broke into a bright happy grin that Actor couldn't help grinning back at. The blond man fidgeted nervously.

"Uh – Terry said you don't remember us," said the pickpocket. "Me name's Goniff."

"Thief?" asked Actor curiously, not knowing how he knew that word.

"That's me, Mate," was the proud Cockney reply.

Maybe this bubbly man could answer a few questions. Actor indicated for him to sit. Goniff plopped on the edge of the bed, jarring a shooting pain through the con man's head, but Actor controlled any reaction.

"Tell me," the Italian said. "We work together as a group. But no one uses their real name. What kind of group are we?"

"We're ruddy cons," replied Goniff. At the other man's confused look, he elaborated. "Convicts. We're working as special forces for the U. S. Army in return for paroles." Warming to his subject, Goniff continued. "I do second-story work an' pick pocketing. Casino, he's a safecracker and demolitions guy. Chiefy is our hot car man and our scout and he uses that knife o' 'is real good."

"And I am a criminal also?" asked Actor, trying to hide his dread at the answer.

"O' course, Mate. You're Actor, the best bloomin' confidence man in Europe and I guess the States." Goniff's face scrunched up. "'Aven't they told you nothing?"

"No," replied Actor quietly, trying to assimilate that information. It brought another thought. "The young woman. Is she a convict also?"

"'Oo, Terry?" Goniff laughed. "Not 'er, no. But you are teachin' 'er real good. And then there's the Warden . . . Lt. Garrison. He's our ruddy boss. Terry's his sister."

He had not asked before and was not sure why, so Actor asked now. "How was I injured?"

"Oh, well," said Goniff, "You an' the Warden were working a con. You was an SS colonel and the Warden was your major. You two was keepin' the guards busy while Casino and I broke into this German general's office and stole the papers out of 'is safe. We knocked out a guard, but 'e come to faster than we expected and 'e brought the whole place after us. There was some shooting when we were going to the car and you got 'it in the 'ead. Chief drove us out of there. You weren't comin' around and the Warden, he got kinda worried, so he took you to a Kraut 'ospital. They couldn't do nothing for you, so we brought you back to England."

Actor was having trouble trying to understand all this information. He was having even more trouble reconciling himself to the fact he was a criminal. It did not seem to bother this perky little fellow in the least. Suddenly, Actor just wanted to be left alone to work things out for himself.

The frown that had appeared on the con man's face worried Goniff. "You all right there, Mate?"

"I'm sorry," said Actor. "I am becoming very tired and the headache is worsening."

"Oh, well, I'll just leave you alone," said Goniff. "Terry'll have me 'ide if she thinks I made you worse." He awkwardly patted Actor's arm. "I'll just see you when we get back. 'Ope you feel better soon."

"Thank you, Goniff," said Actor politely.

He closed his eyes to hurry the little guy on his way. His mind reeled under the revelation. He was unsure what kind of man he had believed himself to be, but a criminal? Convict meant he had spent time in prison. Now he wished he had not opened the Pandora's Box with Goniff. So what was he? Was he a common street hood? He didn't feel like one. There was no recollection of any family, but he felt like they would have been more upper class. If that was the case, what had happened to him? It was too much to contemplate right now and he drifted off to sleep.

Garrison silently opened the bedroom door and slipped inside, leaving it slightly ajar. They would be leaving soon. It was the first time since the group had been formed that he was going in without his second. He pushed that worry to the back of his mind. Moving silently forward, he watched for movement from the man on the bed. He did not want to disturb Actor if he was sleeping. He just wanted to check on him one last time.

Craig looked down on the sleeping man. There was pallor to Actor's face that was accentuated by the dark circled eyes, the shadowing of beard, and the white bandage that matched the white pillow beneath the man's head. Alone with Actor, Craig allowed himself the luxury of worry.

He sat in the chair beside the bed. If it had been one of his brothers, he would have laid a comforting hand on the one resting atop the covers. As it was, he just maintained a quiet vigil, his thoughts centered on the man in the bed. In the seven short months they had been together, Craig had come to rely heavily on Actor. The older man was a fount of wisdom and knowledge. He had rapidly become Garrison's second in command, able to take over if need be and always there for backup.

It wasn't just on the missions that Craig relied on him. Of all the four, a kind of bond had grown between the young officer and the older confidence man. They had developed a ritual after each mission, when time allowed, sitting for an hour or two in Craig's room, sharing a bottle of either Garrison's brandy or Actor's cognac. The conversation started out with another rehash of the mission. From there it would turn to other things. Sometimes Actor would reminisce about Europe before the war. Other times, they would simply sit and discuss anything that came to mind; politics, religion, war strategies, the confidence game. For both it was a time when they could relax and enjoy a camaraderie that neither had been able to for years. Over time, Craig had come to recognize and appreciate the quiet, dry and sometimes cynical wit of the Italian.

A chill ran through Garrison as he realized the very real possibility Actor would not recover or recover sufficiently and quickly enough to satisfy the army. To lose Actor, his friendship and strength, and have to break in another confidence man of lesser ability, was an unbearable thought.

Lost in his thoughts, it was a bit before he realized dark hazel eyes were watching him.

"Did I disturb you?" asked Craig quietly.

"No," denied Actor.

"How's your head?" asked Garrison.

Actor shrugged one eyebrow. "It is still aching, but possibly a little less, Lieutenant."

Garrison's own eyebrows rose at that. "You remembering?"

"No," sighed Actor with regret. "It is process of elimination." He eyed the peasant clothing the officer was wearing. "Though you do not resemble an army officer clothed like that."

"I hope not," said Craig with a grin.

The con man studied the man. "You will have to work on the persona to go with the outfit. You still have a military bearing."

Craig's grin broadened. This was something the old Actor would say. "I'll work on it." He was rewarded with an answering grin.

"Hey, Warden! The truck's here!" Casino's blaring voice could be heard in the bedroom.

"Gotta go," said Garrison. He and Actor eyed each other. Craig stood and reached down to grip the Italian's near shoulder. "Get better," he said seriously and quietly.

"I will try," replied the con man. "Be careful," he added.

"I will try," repeated Garrison. He gave a squeeze and released Actor's shoulder, turning for the door.

Terry met him there. She grabbed him in a quick, unexpected hug. Mouth close to his ear, Terry said quietly, "I know you're very capable, but please be careful. You don't have him for backup this time."

"I know," said Craig. "I'll be careful. You just get him well."

"I'll do my best," she assured him. "He does kinda grow on you."

"Hey, Warden! Wot's this now? You're the one bein' late?"

"Knock it off, Goniff and get in the truck!" yelled Garrison in his best officer voice.

Terry watched her brother trot down the hall and laughed. Still grinning, she went into the bedroom. "You up for putting a little food in your stomach?" she asked brightly.

"At your convenience," replied Actor absently. He was looking away, eyes focused inward.

Terry's smile faded a bit. "I'll be back in a minute," she said.

Garrison. There was something so familiar about the man. He was certainly young for leading a group of convicts. With youth was enthusiasm. Maybe that was what was needed. Actor's mind wound around through the maze that was preventing him from remembering. If he was one of this group, then he had to be following the young lieutenant. Why? What about the man would inspire Actor to follow someone obviously much younger than himself? Why had he not just left? If he was such a great confidence man, that should not have been a problem. Blackmail? Somehow he was certain that was not the case. Just as he was certain that he would not wish to leave the young officer. Actor felt a strange concern for the man, as though he should be going with him. Why? To do what?

Terry came back with a tray holding a bowl of soup, a plate of food and two glasses of milk. She set it on the desk and turned back to the con man.

"Well, Caro, shall we see what happens when we sit you up?"

She held an arm out for him to grasp and helped him up with a hand behind his back. Once sitting, she pulled the pillows back against the headboard and he scooted back to lean against them. Actor's eyes squeezed shut as a wave of dizziness assailed him. Terry kept hold of his shoulder.

"Easy, Caro. Take some slow deep breaths."

She watched as he complied. Slowly his features relaxed and he opened his eyes. Cautiously he leaned back more solidly against the pillows.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you."

Terry took the plate and a glass off the tray and then placed the tray across Actor's lap. "You haven't eaten in days. I'm starting you on some soup. If it stays okay and you want something more, I'll fix you a plate."

"I am sure this will be fine."

Actor picked up the spoon and swirled the soup in the bowl. There were bits of chicken, carrots, celery, potato and onions in a creamy base. He took a taste. It was warm and lightly seasoned and absolutely delicious. Cautious of his previously wayward stomach, he was careful for the first few bites. As there was no objection he ate a bit more heartily.

"This is very good, Miss Garrison."

Terry almost choked on her chicken. "Miss Garrison? What happened to Cara or at least Teresa?"

"That would probably not be appropriate. You are taking excellent care of me, but how can you? I am a bad person."

"What do you mean you are a bad person?" asked Terry.

"I am a convict. I have done bad things in my life. I have hurt people. I have been in prison. How can you stand to be near me?"

"Just what are you remembering?" asked Terry with concern.

"It is not a memory," replied the Italian quietly.

Terry's mind seethed. "Who told you and what did they tell you?"

"The blond man, Goniff. I asked him what kind of team we were. He explained we are all criminals and convicts. He told me I am supposed to be the best confidence man in Europe. Of course that might just be his opinion."

"It's everybody's opinion," said Terry.

"Why did you not tell me?" there was hurt accusation in his voice.

Terry sighed. "Because I wanted the memories that come back to you to be your own and not what someone else planted in your brain."

So I am indeed a confidence man and a convict?"

"Yes."

"Which means I have tricked people out of their money, lied and thieved, and hurt people. Why are you not afraid of me? Why are you so kind to me?"

"You have never hurt me, Actor," she said. "You have a very special set of skills. Most of your life you used those skills for illegal gain. But, working with us, if you hadn't had those skills we would all be dead. Numerous times you have saved all of our lives simply because you have those skills. Our lives are not black and white. They are shades of gray. You have done bad, but you have also done good. Your whole life isn't just the confidence game. You have so many other skills. You are our medical person. Your knowledge of medicine has helped all of us when we have been injured. That silver tongue of yours has gotten us past road blocks and out of situations where we would all have been killed otherwise."

Actor looked at her guiltily. "Goniff also said I was teaching you."

Terry's head tilted to the side and her lips pursed. Right about now she could have easily strangled Goniff. "Craig and I are both learning from you. We both had a foundation in the confidence game, so you are not 'corrupting' us if that's what you are thinking. What we learn from you will help keep us alive. I am not afraid of you, _Caro._ I have great respect for you and I think of you as a friend. I just hope that eventually you will come to think of me as a friend again."

"I would like that very much," said Actor quietly.

Terry pulled herself together. "I'm sorry. I'm not upset with you. I just wished you could have gotten your memory back without 'help.' And I didn't stop to think that you might find it upsetting."

"One does not like to find out that one is not a very nice person."

"Oh, you might be a little arrogant sometimes," smiled Terry. Actor looked at her with raised eyebrows. "But on the whole," she continued, "you're pretty nice."

Terry stood up and took the tray with the empty soup bowl and glass over to the desk and put her empty plate on it. "Would you like something more to eat?"

"Not right now, thank you," replied Actor.

"I'm going down and wash up the dishes. When I'm done, I'd like to change that dressing again. She looked at him, sitting up in bed. "Are you all right like that, or do you need to lay down?"

"I am fine this way," he said.

Terry returned a half hour later. She got the fire going in Actor's room to heat it up a bit. It was naturally cold in January in England, but there was a front coming in so it was going to be colder. She straightened and turned to the Italian, eyeing the lower half of his face.

"Actor, you need a shave."

His hand reached up to run fingers over the dark stubble on one cheek. "I agree."

Terry headed for the bathroom and collected a basin of warm water and his shaving supplies. The basin sat on his lap. When she picked up the cup with the soap cake in it and the brush, Actor caught both her hands.

"Excuse me," he said sociably. "I would prefer to shave myself."

Terry stared at him. "I don't think you can make it to the bathroom yet or stand in front of the sink that long. I am very capable. Who do you think shaved you yesterday?"

"You are a woman. You must have a hand mirror. It is not a matter of your capabilities; it is a matter of there being some things a man prefers to do for himself. Shaving and . . . elimination are two of them."

Terry set the cup and brush down on the bed beside him. "I wondered how long before you would get to the second one. If you try to get up to the bathroom now you're going to fall flat on your face and bust your head open again. I will get a mirror. Tomorrow we will see about bathroom." She fetched her hand mirror and returned to perch on the side of the bed. "May I watch?" she asked with just a hint of sarcasm.

"I don't mind," said Actor, positioning her hand and the mirror before lathering his face. "As long as you keep the mirror steady."

One of the things in life Terry found very enjoyable was watching a man shave. And Actor was no exception. But there was something rather intimate about watching the Italian shave. More so than watching Craig, or even Jake in the past. Terry watched as Actor wiped the remnants of lather from his face. He took the mirror from her and studied his reflection from different angles. Then it struck her, he could not remember what he looked like.

"Look familiar?" she asked.

"Not really."

"You're usually not so dark around the eyes, and then the dressing will come off eventually. You are a very handsome man."

"Thank you."

Terry gathered up the shaving things and took them into the bathroom. As she was cleaning up and then gathering the supplies to change the head dressing, she called out, "About that other issue, I'm sure you don't remember, but I am a nurse. I do know how to empty a jug and it doesn't bother me."

"It still bothers me."

Terry came back out and set up her supplies on the chair. Maybe she could bandage it now without wrapping his head. She would see. Terry slowly started unwinding the roller gauze from around Actor's head. He bent his head forward to facilitate her actions and in doing so caught another evasive whiff of lavender. He closed his eyes as a scene flashed before him. His eyes flew open and he looked sharply at her. Terry froze at the puzzled look on his face.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No," he denied, "No. Come closer."

Terry scooted up a little closer to him. The odd look on his face concerned her.

"May I touch you?" he asked, brows still furrowed.

"I guess," Terry replied, not sure what to expect.

She held very still as his fingertips skimmed her cheeks and wove into her hair. He lifted the mass of auburn waves up and held them there, cascading over his hands. His expression turned to wonder. Terry's mouth went dry. Her hands moved to rest lightly on his chest, not resisting, just touching, wary. She watched a myriad of expressions cross his face. Her lips parted as she drew in a breath, part apprehension and part anticipation. Actor held her head still, tilting his and capturing her lower lip between his. The kiss was warm and sensuous. After a moment's hesitation of surprise, Terry responded, kissing him back and sliding her hands around his chest to his back. One of his hands released her hair and his arm curved around her shoulders, pulling her tight against him, never breaking the kiss. Terry's thoughts flew away, just leaving sensations. Slowly, he pulled back. They watched each other. Terry pulled her lower lip between her teeth, but that just gave her another taste of him. She released her lip, unable to resist running the tip of her tongue over both lips. She dropped her hands as he dropped his.

"Would you like to tell me what that was about?" she asked, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Your scent," he replied.

"My what?" Terry stared at him.

"Your scent."

"I'm not wearing any."

"Yes you are. Very faint. Lavender."

"Yardley English Lavender soap," she said. "That caused . . . that?"

"No," denied Actor. "It caused a flash. A memory." Now his mind switched to trying to analyze it.  
>Terry scooted back a bit. She picked up the gauze pad that had fallen off and tossed it in the trash with the roller gauze. Tilting his head to the side with a thumb on his chin, Terry concentrated on inspecting the wound. It was looking good, free of redness or infection. As she set about putting a smaller dressing over it, Actor started to talk.<p>

"We were in a ballroom. There were German officers and dignitaries all dressed very formally. I was dancing . . . with you. You were lovely. Your hair was swept up. You were in a ball gown with long white gloves on. Your face was made up. And you smelled of lavender and vanilla." He didn't look at her, but instead stared out into space as though seeing it again in his mind. "I was holding you tightly to me. Your cheek was resting on my shoulder, beneath my chin. You felt so good against me." He was so enthralled with the vision in his head, he did not see her pause, tape stretched between upheld hands, and stare at him. "I could not help myself. I kissed you and you kissed me back."

Oh, this is going places it shouldn't, thought Terry. She steeled herself and finished taping the dressing. She realized this was more than a memory of a flashback. He was reliving it right now. She remembered it happening a couple months before. But how much of what he was feeling was real?

Keeping her voice casual, Terry said, "Well, that is the game you and I play. You turn yourself into a German officer. Usually SS. Most of the time you are with Craig. Sometimes, you guys have to crash a party. That's when you take me along. You play the officer and I play your wife, girlfriend, mistress, whatever is required at the time. That is the con."

Actor came out his trance and looked at her, again puzzled. "Are we lovers?"

"No," she replied firmly.

"Why not? You are a lovely woman."

That caught Terry up short. Obviously he had not forgotten how to be a ladies' man. "One, I'm your boss's sister. Two, we know each other too well. And three, neither one of us is the other one's type. Now give it a rest. It's a game we play, that's all."

She got up with a smile and put away the dressing supplies. She helped him get settled back down and turned the light off. The flickering glow from the fireplace cast some light into the room.

"I'll leave both doors open tonight," she said. "If you need anything, just yell. If it doesn't hurt your head too much. Otherwise throw something."

"Have I upset you?" asked Actor's worried voice.

"No," denied Terry. "I'm just tired. I haven't had a whole lot of sleep in the last couple days. Good night, Actor."

"Good night, Teresa."

Terry went into her room and sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees and head in her hands. She had never had any misgivings about staying alone in the house with one of them when they were injured. Until now. There was no way she was sleeping in the chair in his room tonight. It was not just that she didn't trust him, but also, she didn't trust herself.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Terry slept fitfully that night. The next morning, the house seemed extraordinarily empty. She had gone to Actor's room, helped him with his morning ablutions, much to his chagrin, and checked the dressing. She had then made him a breakfast of eggs, scrambled the way he liked them with cheese, toast and jam, and real coffee. She ate while she was cooking so she did not have to sit in the room with him. She was still uncomfortable about the night before. When she went back upstairs to check on him, she found he had fallen asleep with the empty plate in his lap and the coffee cup on the night table. He was leaning against the headboard, but appeared comfortable so she hadn't awakened him. He seemed out to the world at that moment so she used the opportunity to take the tray, go downstairs, wash the dishes and get another cup of coffee.

She was just cleaning up the sink when she heard a loud thud from upstairs. Fear shot through her as she took the stairs two at a time. Skidding into the doorway to his room, she took in Actor's unconscious form sprawled on the floor away from the bed. She moved quickly to check him. The dressing on his head was still clean. There was another lump growing on the back of his head. He did not respond to his name. Terry ran hands down his arms and legs, relieved to find no additional injuries. She slapped his cheeks lightly to try to arouse him. Nothing. Grabbing him under the arms, she tried to lift him. She quickly determined there was no way she was going to get him onto the bed by herself. Easing him back to the floor, she sprinted back downstairs and grabbed the phone to call Kit for reinforcements.

Madge answered the phone at the Fox.

"Is Kit there?" asked Terry.

"She's behind the bar. Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, tell her Actor fell. He's out cold on the floor and I can't move him by myself. And ask her to bring ice. He's hit his stupid head again."

"Okay, don't worry, Love," said Madge. "We'll get you some 'elp out there right away."

"Thanks, Madge," said Terry, gratefully.

Running back upstairs, she got the extra blanket off the bed and spread it over the bottom half of him. Terry sat cross-legged on the floor with Actor's head in her lap to wait for Kit to arrive. Leave it to him to bash his head again, just when he was starting to get some memory back. She wondered how much of a setback this would be. She looked down at the dark head and smiled. She doubted the old Actor would deign to be in this position with her. Light fingertips smoothed the creases in his forehead before running through the thick wavy hair. The other forefinger moved up to trace the length of his nose, feeling the slight bump and crook to the left near the top.

"Broke it at one time didn't you?" Terry murmured. "Evading an irate husband? Or falling on a curb when you were a kid?" She grinned. "No, you were never a child. Must have been a husband."

For the first time, at this angle, she took notice of long dark eyelashes. "That is disgusting, Caro. Such a waste on a man."

She had to admit, he was a good looking man. Strong features and a slightly Roman nose. He had to have some aristocratic blood in those veins somewhere along the line. She continued her assessment. Strong broad shoulders and a wide chest covered with a mat of dark hair. A trim waist. She refused to let her imagination fill in what was between that waist and those disgustingly long gazelle legs. And now she knew at least one of his secrets. Underneath that arrogant exterior was a really nice man.

It had come as a surprise when she realized that he was unhappy to be told he was a confidence man. He had always seemed so proud of who and what he was. Was that a con too? What of his past? He was very close-mouthed about it, and there was nothing to speak of in his dossier. Craig had told her of an incident where Actor had mentioned in front of the others that he came from aristocracy. The laughter and ridicule made him shun ever speaking of it again. He certainly had the air of an aristocrat. And he always leaned toward playing the role of a count.

"What is your name?" Terry whispered softly. "Who are you? A second son cut out of the family fortune? The result of an illicit affair? A street urchin with big dreams?" She stroked the dark head. "No. Somebody taught you your courtly manners. That's bred in, not something you would pick up off the streets."

As nice as he was now, Terry hoped the old Actor would come back pretty soon. The old Actor was easier to deal with. What had been with that kiss? She did not wish to delve too deeply into her response to him. Most of the time, before his injury, he acted as though she was an annoying nuisance to him, not an object of desire, though lately they seemed to have developed more of a friendship.

Terry heard the front door open and she pulled the blanket up to cover him to his chin.

"Hey, where are you?" called Kit from the top of the stairs.

"Down here. Second door on the right."

Kit came into the room, followed closely by Madge and Meg Schaeffer.

Terry looked at Meg in surprise. "How'd you get off to come?"

"Early lunch break," grinned Meg.

Terry took charge, getting out from under Actor's head. "Okay, let's get him on the blanket. It'll be easier to lift him."

Kit pulled the blanket off him. As he was only wearing his boxer shorts, she was afforded a good look at the rest of him. "Holy crap! There isn't an ounce of fat on that body, it's all muscle."

"Kit!" exclaimed Terry in embarrassment. "For heaven's sake, the poor man is unconscious, show some tact!"

"I am," replied Kit. "He's unconscious so he can't hear me. Look at those legs. If they were on a horse he'd be a terrific steeplechaser."

Terry shook her head in exasperation as the four women moved him onto the blanket. To her surprise, Meg continued the line of thought.

"So what does that make Rodney, a Shetland pony?"

Terry gave up and went along with it. "Hardly. They're nasty critters. Goniff doesn't have a mean bone in him. Maybe a palomino."

With much exertion, the girls lifted the big man and got him back on the bed. As they got the blanket out from under him, the conversation resumed.

"All right, Terry," said Kit. "You live with them. What's Casino?"

"Cutting horse," she said without much thought. "Stocky and strong."

Kit continued, "Then Chief must be a quarter-horse."

Terry shook her head. "Naw, he's pure mustang. A little bit untamed, lean, and good stamina."

Madge piped up, "Well your brother is pure thoroughbred. Good lines and good breeding."

Kit looked at her in surprise. "What, you got the hots for Craig?"

Madge smiled cheekily. "Well, if I was given a choice, it would be a toss-up between this big bloke," she pointed to Actor, "and the Lieutenant."

"We better hope he can't hear us," said Terry. "I would have to die of embarrassment."

She got him situated with his head slightly to the side. The three others watched as Terry tucked the covers around him.

"What was he trying to do?" asked Kit.

"Knowing him, probably trying to get into the bathroom," said Terry.

Kit arched a red eyebrow. "You have to take care of that too?"

"That is a very indelicate question, Miss Gallagher," said Meg in a haughty voice.

"You tell her, Meg," said Terry, grinning at the usually quiet girl.

Terry directed Kit off that subject. "Did you bring ice?"

"In the kitchen," supplied Madge.

They all headed out and down the stairs.

"Hey, we need to get back before I have to explain to Father where I was on my early lunch break," warned Meg.

Terry shot a worried look at the young woman. "What's your father been saying about Actor and his condition?"

Meg gave a disgusted look. "The doctor in Folkestone said Actor would need at least two weeks to recover, if he does. Father is hoping he doesn't. Recover that is."

"No offense," said Terry, "but your mother must have been a saint. And so are you."

Meg shrugged. "Mama died young. Somebody has to take care of him."

"A little lead poisoning would take care of that," muttered the red-head.

"Kit!" exclaimed Terry and Madge.

Meg took no offense at the statement and her mouth curved into a grin. "There are times I believe the Lieutenant is of the same opinion."

"Sorry," said Terry, knowing she was right.

"No problem," said Meg. "I live with him remember? I know what the Major is like."

They paused at the front door.

"Thank you Ladies for you kind assistance," said Terry with humor.

"Oh, anytime you need 'elp with the Big Bloke, just call," offered Madge with a cheeky grin.

Terry stood at the door and watched the trio bounce down the steps and to Meg's car. She waved as they pulled out and down the drive. The house became very quiet again. Terry went in the kitchen and filled an ice bag from the fresh supply of cubes in the freezer.

Actor still had not regained consciousness by the time she got back up to the bedroom. She leaned the ice bag against the new swelling and sat down in the chair to take up the vigil again.

He was still unconscious after lunchtime. Terry decided she might as will change the dressing now while he was out. It would forestall him asking how bad the wound looked. She was surprised he hadn't asked already. Maybe he didn't remember how vain he was about his looks. The wound was looking clean. She applied more sulfa powder and taped a small dressing over it. In the process, she talked to him even though he was unconscious. "It's looking better. No infection. Looks like the scar isn't going to be bad." She watched his eyelids as she spoke to him. They did not flicker. Terry sighed. She used her right ring finger to gently free some of the dark hair from under the tape. Smiling affectionately, she smoothed the hair in place. Absently lost in thought, she rhythmically stroked his hair and his forehead. Eventually she came back to herself, but continued smoothing his forehead. "I know I'm asking a lot, Caro, but I really wish you would open your eyes, speak English and make sense."

"I am afraid if I do that, you will cease doing what you are doing. And what you are doing is very soothing. I think it is helping the headache."

Her hand paused as she gave a short chuckle, half in amusement and half in embarrassment at being caught, and watched his eyes which remained closed. Her hand resumed its ministrations. "How long have you been awake?" Terry asked with quiet humor.

"Long enough to enjoy this," replied Actor.

"Look at me," Terry coaxed.

"Are you going to stop?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

Actor opened his eyes and looked at her. Terry looked closely at them. "Dizzy?"

"No," replied Actor. "What happened? Now the back of my head hurts."

"Oh, you just bumped it a little," said Terry nonchalantly.

"I am being a lot of trouble to you," he said apologetically.

Terry smiled and rubbed his arm. "Caro, you are never any trouble to me." She paused a moment. "Well maybe when you fall on the floor. . ."

"Is that what I did?"

"You don't remember?"

"No," he replied, trying to recall.

Good thing thought Terry to herself. "Okay, who am I?"

Actor's tone was indulgent. "You are Teresa, mia Cara."

Ah, we're back to cara, thought Terry. "And who are you?"

"I am known as Actor. I am a confidence man and convict." This was spoken with a tone of distaste.

"And what is your name?"

"Which one? I go by several."

Crap. He couldn't or wouldn't give her his real name. "Where are we?"

Actor's indulgence was wearing thin. "We are in a manor house in England. Brandonshire, I believe."

"And who are we?"

Actor took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "Your brother is Lt. Garrison. Craig. Besides you and myself, there are Goniff, the blond, Casino, the surly one, and Chief, the young man with the switchblade strapped to his wrist who has helped me several times in the last couple days."

Now Terry sighed. "How much of this is your memory coming back and not what you have heard us tell you?"

"Some of it is coming back," he admitted. "There are bits and pieces . . . flashes of things." He looked at her sadly, sucking in his cheeks like he did when he was unhappy. "Alcatraz."

Terry had stopped stroking his forehead and had a hand resting on his forearm. "I don't know whether to say I'm happy you're remembering or I'm sorry. I don't imagine Alcatraz holds pleasant memories."

"They are not," admitted the con man. "And it is still disappointing to discover I am not, shall we say, a pillar of society."

Terry rubbed his arm. "At the risk of hurting your feelings, Caro, you are arrogant and egotistical and I think that is a façade you present to everyone. The man I have seen in the last couple days is not near as bad as you think you are. You're not some common hood. I think there's blue blood running somewhere in those veins. What's your name?"

Actor raised the corner of him mouth in a cynical grin. "Good try, Teresa. That is none of your affair."

"Do you even know your name?" she pushed a bit more.

"Yes," he replied. "And it is still none of your affair."

"Why?" she asked softly. "Who are you trying to protect? You, or your family?"

"Maybe neither, maybe both." He shrugged both eyebrows and winced at the pull on the wound. "And maybe I have no family."

"Well, we might not be up to your standards, Sir," teased Terry. "But you do have us."

Actor pulled his arm out from under her grasp and lifted her hand up to kiss the back of it. "And for that I am grateful, Cara," he said. "You take good care of me."

"You take good care of us also."

The headache was coming back stronger again. Actor's eyes closed and his brows furrowed. Terry lightly squeezed the hand that still held her fingers. She laid his hand down on the bed covers and lightly stroked down the back of it.

"Take a nap," she said. "I'll come check on you. If you're good and stay in the bed this time, I'll make you a treat for lunch."

One wry eye opened and looked at her. She grinned impishly.

"Chocolate?" she tempted.

"I suppose I might be bribed," he said.

Terry smiled with humor. "We'll see how your head is this afternoon. Maybe we can try to get you up then."

"I would enjoy that," said Actor, drifting off.

Terry added more wood to the fire and went downstairs to figure out what sweet chocolate treat she could make for the man. She ended up making a chocolate cream. Terry took the little bit of leftover chicken she had from the night before and made chicken salad sandwiches. She ate hers and placed his in the refrigerator for when he woke up. She had checked on him a couple times and he had remained sleeping.

Actor awakened and lay still, listening. He heard the back door close and decided Teresa must be in the kitchen. The more he thought about her, the more confused he became. She treated him with kindness and affection, as though she really did care about him. While he was discovering what kind of man he was, she had known all along, yet she did not shun him. How could that be? She was what could be termed as 'a nice girl.' How could someone like her stand to associate with someone like him, or the other men for that matter. And then there was the kiss. He had started it, but she had responded with passion. He was beginning to remember the many kisses they had shared that were part of the 'game.' There had been a few long and sensuous ones, but they had not the ardor of the one last night. He searched back in his mind and remembered getting her ready for the German party where they had danced and kissed. They had been at the safe house. Teresa was wearing the ball gown and had asked for his help with her hair and makeup. Under his talented hands, she had been transformed from a nice young lady into an elegant conwoman. The sophisticated woman who had blossomed under his handiwork piqued his interest. Then Actor remembered her brother watching with thinly veiled distrust. He had come to the rapid conclusion that dallying with the Warden's sister would be injudicious, possibly suicidal – at least a one way ticket back to the Rock.

With a grimace, Actor reached up and removed the ice bag that was more than half water now. Gingerly, he felt the goose egg on the back of his head. He vaguely remembered trying to get out of the bed, but then nothing until he came to with her soothing his forehead. If he had been unconscious, he wondered how she had managed to get him back onto the bed. Maybe it was better he did not know.

The clicking of her boot heels grew louder. Actor looked to the door as Terry peeked in.

"You're awake." She smiled and stepped up to the side of his bed. "How's your head?"

"Now it gives me discomfort in two places," he replied dryly.

"I made some lunch for you," she said. "Would you like to eat first or shall we see if we can get you up in a chair?"

"A chair would be nice," he replied.

To his surprise, she turned on her heels and left. A short time later, he heard a loud scrapping sound. "Teresa?" he called out, "what are you doing?"

"Getting your chair," she called back.

Actor watched in amazement as the girl appeared, backing into his room and dragging one of the wing-backed chairs from the upstairs common room. The woman was a constant source of wonder. She dressed in trousers and riding boots and manhandled furniture as though it were nothing. Yet at times she could be so very feminine. "What do you think you are doing, Cara?" he asked, the endearment coming automatically.

"I want you to be comfortable," she said as she positioned the chair facing the side of the bed. She went to his dresser and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a pair of midnight blue silk pajamas and tossing them on the bed.

Carefully, he swung his feet over the edge and sat up. There was a hint of dizziness, but a couple deep breaths chased it away. Actor looked at the pajamas.

"Can you get them on without falling on your head?" asked Terry half seriously.

"I believe so," he replied.

Terry walked to the door and turned her back to him. Actor looked at her back a moment, then semi-stood to remove his shorts. Careful to not lean forward too much, he managed to get the pajama bottoms on. Ah, he did love the feel of silk. As he put his arms in the sleeves of the shirt, he grinned at Teresa.

"You may turn around now," he said.

Terry turned back and watched him button the shirt. It was not that she didn't appreciate the man half naked, but he was too much of a distraction right now. And the kind of distraction she did not need. She moved instead over to the armoire and took out a lighter blue silk robe, handing it to him.

"Here," she said, "it's still chilly in these rooms."

Terry stood close by as the Italian rose to his feet. He seemed steady enough as he slipped on the robe and tied the belt around his waist. Turning he eased his tall frame into the chair and leaned back with closed eyes and a smile of satisfaction.

"Ah, much better," he said.

Terry smiled. "Dizzy at all?"

"Just a little when I move, but it passes quickly."

The girl bounced toward the door.

"Now where are you going?" asked Actor.

"I'm just going to finish getting you situated, then I'll bring up your lunch."

A minute later, she returned carrying the end table from the common room with a crocheted afghan atop it. She placed the table beside his right arm and spread the afghan over his legs.

"Teresa," there was a hint of reproach in his voice.

"I know, you don't like to be fussed over. Get used to it. Casino and Goniff seem to enjoy it tremendously."

She bounced back out of the room. A small smile crossed the con man's face. Trousers and boots and capable. It was everything he disliked in a woman, but she could also be soft and feminine. As he could now recall, they made a good team, he and Teresa. The smile froze and faded away. A good team. Good at what? Conning people, tricking them, taking advantage of them?

He still could not help but return her smile when she came back with a tray of food. There was a plate with a chicken salad sandwich and a pickle, a cup of coffee, and a cup with some chocolate pudding. She placed it on his lap and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I promised you chocolate. Sorry, all I could come up with is chocolate cream. I'm fresh out of éclairs." She grinned at him.

"You have gone to too much trouble, Cara," Actor protested. "You are spoiling me."

Terry shrugged, "Okay, when you get better you can wash the dishes for a week." She studied his face. "Are you all right there for a little bit?"

"I believe I will be fine," assured the Italian.

Terry got up and started stripping the bed. She threw the linens on the floor in a pile and got fresh sheets from the hall closet. Actor ate and watched her make the bed back up. It now looked quite inviting. Terry gathered up the linens and headed for the door.

"I'm going to put these in the washer," she said. She gave him a stern look. "Don't you dare get out of that chair without me being here, Caro."

"Getting a bit bossy there, Cara," Actor teased back to her.

"Only chance I get with you," Terry shot back, "and I'm going to take full advantage of it."

"I am quite comfortable here," he said. "I will finish my sandwich and this wonderful dessert you went to so much trouble to make for me."

Terry headed down the hall. Actor chuckled to himself after she left. When next she returned, she was carrying an ashtray and a pipe. She set them on the table and went to the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out the pouch of tobacco and matches. She laid these beside the ashtray. He had finished his lunch and she took the tray from him.

"The sandwich was very good and the chocolate cream was excellent," pronounced Actor.

"I'm glad you liked it," said Terry. She cocked her head at him and glanced at the pipe. "You remember how to do that?"

"Teresa, some things one never forgets. How to build a good pipe is one of them."

"Well, you enjoy it and I'm going to finish changing beds."

Terry came back to check on Actor an hour later. As she stepped into the bedroom the smell of pipe smoke caused her to smile. She took in a slow deep breath, savoring the earthy, woody, slightly spicy scent. Her breath came out in a sigh of pleasure. "Oh, that has been missing around here."

Actor had been resting in his chair, eyes closed. He opened them now and looked at the girl. "I am glad you enjoy it," he said.

Terry studied him as she walked closer. The Italian seemed more relaxed, but his eyes looked tired with a little less of their usual sparkle. Terry immediately felt contrite.

"I've left you up too long the first time," she said apologetically.

"No," denied the man. "It has felt good to be up. But that bed does look inviting." He looked at her sternly. "However, I am going to take a little walk before returning to it."

Terry's eyes narrowed. "God you are a stubborn man!"

Actor smiled smugly, "I seem to recall that is one of my traits."

She stood by as he cautiously rose to his feet. He felt a little lightheaded, but took a couple steadying breaths. He was determined to make it the ten feet to the bathroom. Actor stepped forward. To his amusement, Teresa was right behind him, hands on his waist. He reached the doorway and took a grip on the doorjamb to steady himself.

"I swear, Actor, if you go splat on the floor again, I'm going to leave your sorry carcass there until Craig and the guys get back. And that's at least another four days."

"You have such an elegant way with words, Cara," said the con man snidely.

"Oh, excuse me, Your Highness," teased Terry back. "Allow me to rephrase that. If you deign to lower your physical self to the oaken boards, I will allow your rotting remains to reside there until my brother can come and remove them."

Actor paused and turned his head to look at her with a raised eyebrow. He looked into her twinkling eyes and curled corner of her upper lip. "Did I teach you that?"

"No, I've been reading some of your books."

He turned around, causing Terry to drop her arms to her sides and take a step back.

"If you will excuse me, Teresa, I came in here with the purpose of attending to a few things without your assistance. If you would be so kind as to close the door on your way out."

The young woman inclined her head and said in a haughty English accent, "As you wish, Milord." Her tone changed to a warning as she backed out the room. "I will be waiting right outside the door."

"I would expect nothing less of you, mia Cara."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Actor slept soundly the rest of the afternoon. It afforded Terry the time to finish the laundry. She had hung it on the outside lines in the backyard and the cold wind had practically frozen them dry. She shivered as she carried the laundry basket through the kitchen. Craig better be basking in the sun in Greece. It took her four more trips to get all the linen in. By that time she felt half frozen herself. Remaking all the beds warmed her up some. Next, she brought in more wood for the fireplaces in the two common rooms, her room and Actor's room.

She filled the Italian's wood box as quietly as possible. He didn't wake up. Terry moved up to the head of his bed. He was on his right side. She watched him for a minute, satisfied he was just sleeping soundly. The little exertion had worn him out. Her hand started to reach out to touch the dark head and she yanked it back and shoved it in her pocket. What on earth was the matter with her? It was starting to get dusk so she moved instead to pull the blackout curtains shut. The small night light on the top of the dresser was turned on as she left.

Things progressed at a moderate rate. Actor still slept much of the time, but between naps, he pushed himself as expected. He was able to get up to the bathroom on his own, much to the relief of both of them. He sat in the chair and with Terry in attendance took several trips walking to the door and back before returning to bed. The headaches were intermittent, but less intense. Too fast a movement and the dizziness returned. If he was careful, it stayed away. They both made an effort to return to their former camaraderie, though Actor teased her a little more now than he had previously. Something still did not seem right with the man. The bright sparkle was missing from his eyes and he was quieter, but Terry put it down to the concussion.

The evening before Garrison and the others were to return, Terry was doing her last minute straightening of the lower common room and making sandwiches. She had Glenn Miller on the record player and was moving in dance steps to the music as she worked. The music was on loud enough for her to hear it in the kitchen.

Upstairs in the common room, Actor was comfortably ensconced in the other wing-back chair in front of the wireless. He had turned on the BBC British Symphony Orchestra. The delightful strains of the music were being overshadowed by the bouncing beat of the swing music downstairs. He knew Teresa enjoyed it and was relieved that Casino could dance to it and would accommodate the woman when she was in the mood for that type of entertainment. Not that he was unlearned in that style of dance. In fact he was quite good at it if he were inclined. It was just he was very rarely inclined. He preferred the more refined classical music. Not wishing to ruin the woman's pleasure, he tried vainly to listen to the orchestral strains from the wireless. Finally, he could stand it no longer.

"Teresa!" he called. There was no answer.

Terry had finished her chores and was coming out of the kitchen when she heard, "Teresa!"

The tone was greatly irritated. With a wince, she ran to the record player and shut it off. Bounding up the stairs, she skidded to a stop in the doorway to the common room. With a smile pasted on her face, she inquired, "Can I get something for you, Actor?"

The glare in his eyes receded and he said in a quieter voice, "You did not need to turn it off, Teresa. I would appreciate it though if you could play it a bit quieter."

"I'm finished anyway," she shrugged. She stepped farther into the room and cocked an ear toward the wireless, picking up the violins. "What's that?"

"Vivaldi," replied Actor. "The British Symphony is playing the entire Four Seasons tonight. The soloist is Fritz Kreisler This is Spring." He looked at her as she stepped a little closer to the wireless, listening. "Are you familiar with classical music?"

"Some," she replied. "I know a little Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Tchaikovsky. I like some of Chopin's stuff."

"Which ones?" Actor asked in interest.

Terry shrugged. "I don't know the names. I just remember some of the music."

Actor had not expected that much. "Why don't you take a break from what you are doing and listen for a few minutes. You might enjoy Vivaldi."

Terry pulled a chair out from the table and sat. The music washed over her and she found herself smiling and feeling uplifted.

"It feels like spring," she said after a bit. Realizing how that sounded, she looked embarrassed. "I mean it sounds like spring."

"No," contradicted Actor, "you were correct the first time. You are feeling the music."

Terry wanted to hear the rest of it. She was aware that the weekly concerts Actor liked to listen to usually lasted an hour and a half, and by her watch, this one had just started a little bit ago. The hard chair wasn't going to cut it for an hour and change.

Actor watched her get up, assuming she had enough and was going back to her swing. He was surprised when she pulled a cushion off the back of the sofa and walked over to drop it on the floor beside him. She folded up to sit on the cushion with her legs curled under her. They sat in silence, listening and enjoying. After a bit, Terry moved around and rested her head against his knee.  
>"Do you mind?" she asked tentatively.<p>

"Not at all," he reassured her.

Actor set about making a pipe. Holding it in his right hand, he savored the smoke which tended to relax him. His left hand moved over and his long fingers began a rhythmic stroking of the auburn hair. She did not stiffen or object, so he continued.

During the intermissions between 'seasons' they both shifted to ease muscles, but ended up in the same basic position. Actor explained the history of Vivaldi and the history of the British Symphony Orchestra.

For Terry the concert ended too soon. Things had become more relaxed between the two, almost like before the injury. The girl was glad she was getting her friend back. As she put the cushion back on the sofa, Actor stifled a yawn.

"Are you going to bed now, Caro?" Terry asked.

"Yes, I believe I will," he said. He wished his strength would come back a little quicker. "Are you staying up to see if they come in?"

Terry nodded. "I'll curl up in your chair and nap."

"My chair?" he asked in amusement. "It is now my chair?"

"It was your chair before I even got here," laughed Terry. "Just like it's Chief's window seat."

They walked down to Actor's bedroom. Terry added more wood to the fire. She waited until Actor had settled in the bed before going over. On impulse, she bent down and they exchanged a short soft kiss. The kind they were used to.

"Thank you for sharing your concert, Caro."

"You are most welcome to join me whenever you wish," he said. "They air the same time every week."

"I might just do that," she smiled. The smile turned into an impish grin. "I still like Miller and the Dorseys, but I kind of like your music too."

Actor chuckled. "I will be sure to inform you if they are going to perform some of that Chopin."

Terry laughed on her way out. She pulled the door partway closed and stuck her head in around it.

"Good night, Actor."

"Good night, Teresa."

GGGGG

It was 2:30 when the low rumble of the transport truck woke Terry. She was up and into the kitchen, setting out the sandwiches and starting hot chocolate. The bedrooms should still be warm from the earlier fires she had started. She met them at the door.

Craig came in first, bearded and tired. He was followed by Casino and Goniff who did not look any better than Garrison. Finally, Chief came in, quiet and tired.

"Anybody hurt?" asked Terry.

"No," replied Craig. "How's Actor?" All of them looked at her expectantly.

"Getting better," she said. "He has most of his memory back. "Hasn't made it downstairs yet, but with you guys back we can probably try it now."

Just the way she said it had Garrison looking at her warily. "What happened?"

"He passed out and fell the day after you left. Bumped his head again, but it's okay."

"Can he go out soon?" asked Craig with just a hint of eagerness.

Terry shook her head, "I wouldn't for at least another week."

"Terrific," grumbled Casino. "Better hope we don't have another mission for another week."

"What happened?" Terry followed them into the kitchen. She set about getting the hot chocolate.

"Nothing 'happened'," said Craig. "It was just none of us spoke the language."

"I thought you spoke some Greek?" asked Terry starting to pour mugs of chocolate.

Craig looked at her with a tired grin, "Yeah, hi and bye." He chewed a bite of sandwich. "You want to sit in on the debriefing in the morning?"

"Sure."

Craig, as usual, was the first one of the men up in the morning. He dressed and walked to the bedroom next to his. Actor was sitting beside the bed in the wing-back chair from the common room. He was clad in pajamas and blue silk robe. Terry was just finishing straightening up his bed. Craig threw another small log on the fire.

"Morning, Brother," said Terry casually. "You want a cup of coffee?"

"Love one," replied Craig.

"What about you, Caro? Want another one?"

"That would be very nice, Cara," smiled Actor.

Craig took a seat on the edge of the bed. He watched his sister with a devilish grin on his face. "Getting a little domestic there, aren't you?"

Terry gave him a mock glare, "I suppose. I swear Craig Garrison, if you tell Ma, I'll wring your scrawny neck."

Garrison laughed and swatted her on the backside as she stepped over his legs to get past. She turned an aimed a booted foot toward his shin, missing it on purpose. Actor looked at the two of them and shook his head. At least they were teasing each other now instead of fighting.

Garrison turned to his second, "You eat yet?"

"Yes," nodded Actor. "She brought a tray up earlier."

"How's the head?" asked Garrison seriously.

"It is improving," acknowledged the Italian. "The headaches are less pronounced. I still tire too easily."

"Terry says your memory is almost back."

Actor nodded, but did not seem as happy about it as Garrison thought he should have been. I have a bit of trouble yet with my pre-prison past." This was said with a touch of distaste. Actor covered with a smile and asked, "How was the mission?"

"It went okay," said Craig. "None of us spoke the language, but we got by. Going in was long and not too pleasant."

"Sub?" asked Actor.

"Plane to Gibraltar. At least we didn't have to jump this time. Then sub to Greece. We met up with the local resistance, gave them money and got information on the Kraut activities."

"You could understand it?" asked Actor curiously.

"No," replied Garrison. "We had to get it and the maps on paper. Spent a cozy night in a cave halfway up a cliff, then back out the same way we came in."

"I am sorry I was unable to be there to translate for you," apologized Actor.

"Not your fault," said Craig. "Can't say that I _didn't_ miss you though." He looked at his second with a small smile. "I don't suppose you could teach me a little bit more Greek than greetings and cuss words?"

"I would be pleased to, Warden," said Actor politely.

Terry came up with a couple cups of coffee and handed it to the two men. "The other guys are moving around now," she said. "I'm going to start breakfast."

"I'll be down in a minute," said Craig. He waited for his sister to leave before turning back to Actor. He did not figure he would get a straight answer to a direct question, but asked anyway. "Are you doing okay?"

Actor smiled and the usual mask fell back in place. "I am doing fine, Lieutenant. It seems to be progressing slowly to me, but that is to be expected with any head injury."

Craig had harbored a tiny hope the man would not close himself off, but was not surprised when he did. He knew he would get no more from Actor, so he rose with a smile of his own and patted the con man on the shoulder. "We'll try and get you downstairs today. It's good to have you back with us."

"Thank you," replied Actor. "It is good to be back with you."

Garrison left the room. Actor leaned back in his chair, the smile slowly fading from his face.

Craig walked into the kitchen in time for one of Casino's little tirades. The men were seated around the table in various stages of wakefulness. Terry was at the stove, putting the last of the fried bacon on a platter. She handed it to Chief to place on the table.

"Hey, Babe," said Casino. "Think I could get my eggs fried?"

"I don't know," replied Terry without turning around. "I've never tried to fry powder before. Don't think it will be too appetizing."

"Powdered!" exclaimed the safecracker in disgust. "What happened to real eggs?"

"I'm out," said Terry back in exasperation.

"Wha'd'ya do, give 'em all to Beautiful?" asked Casino in disgust.

With hands on hips, Terry turned narrowed eyes on the safecracker. "I used the last of them, yes. In the condition he was in I couldn't very well leave him alone here for a couple hours while I went shopping. I'll try to get more this afternoon." Casino opened his mouth to continue his objections, but Terry cut him off. "And of course I gave them to Beautiful. Did you forget I made pancakes especially for you the last time you got shot?"

"Would you two knock it off," interrupted Craig before it could turn into a full-blown argument.

Terry shook her head in exasperation and turned back to her cooking.

After breakfast was finished, they all took their coffee cups and wandered into Garrison's office. The men lounged at their usual seats around the big wood conference table. Terry sat in Actor's chair. Craig took his seat at the head of the table.

"Okay, the transport in. Chief?" he started.

"Okay. Too long. At least we didn't have to jump." Chief was his usual man of few words.

"I don't like subs," added Goniff with a grimace.

"We all know that, Limey," shot back Casino, remembering the blond man's nausea.

Craig continued on. "Rendezvous with the resistance? Goniff?"

"Coulda used Actor there, Warden," replied the pickpocket. "Him speaking the language an' all."

"Agreed," admitted Craig.

"Yeah," Casino gave in. "He is good for some things."

"Woulda made it easier in that cave too," Chief put in.

Goniff harrumphed, "The ruddy natives weren't too friendly."

Craig could just hear Actor's understatement of "the accommodations were sorely lacking" if the con man had been there. "Trip back?"

Goniff tilted his chair back and crossed his feet on the table. "Next time I say we take a bleedin' airplane back."

Craig favored him with an indulgent grin. "Goniff, you hate flying as much as you hate subs."

"Yeah, Warden, but planes take less time."

Casino knocked Goniff's shoulder with the back of his hand, "Yeah, but did you forget? Planes get shot down, yuh know."

Goniff pulled his feet off the table and sat upright. "An' subs get sunk."

"Was the information useful?" asked Terry to stave off another of the pair's arguments.

"Hammond seemed to be happy," said Garrison.

"Hammond actually gets happy?" asked Terry with a grin.

"Sometimes. Rarely," admitted Garrison.

The conversation continued until they had all had enough to say about the mission and they adjourned. As Terry followed the cons out, Garrison called her back. Terry shut the door instead and turned back to her brother with an understanding smile.

"Miss him?" she asked.

Craig knew who she was talking about. "Yeah," he admitted. "I got used to having him for backup. Besides, he knows so damn much about everything and everywhere." He frowned. "How is Actor . . . really? Something just isn't right and I can't put my finger on it."

Terry chewed on her cheeks. "It's getting better. I think."

"What happened?" Craig was concerned and Terry was the only one he could show that to.

Terry sighed. "Just before you left, Goniff told Actor all about who and what he is and was. Actor didn't remember any of it, but it bothered him that he was, quote, a bad person."

Craig raised an eyebrow at that, "Huh? The man's damn proud of being the best confidence man around."

"Not anymore," said Terry. "He seems to be getting better with it, but something still isn't right. I don't know whether it's his head or what's running around in his head."

"Well, I hope he gets it straight before we have to go back in,' said Craig.

"He's Actor. He will," replied Terry with a confidence she did not quite feel.

Both the Garrisons watched the con man for the next week. His strength came back and he was able to get up and down stairs by himself. He seemed to spend most of his time in the library instead of his usual chair in the common room. Admitting to still having occasional headaches, the brother and sister put his isolation down to avoiding the never ending bickering between Casino and Goniff and Casino and Chief.

Both Terry and Actor made a concentrated effort to return to their pre-injury camaraderie. They talked together in Italian, called each other Cara and Caro, and Actor continued to teach her about the arts and music. Both studiously relegated the kiss to the backs of their minds.

The reprieve from missions could not and did not last long. One day, Garrison came back from London with the briefcase shackled to his wrist. He paused in the common room and looked directly at the Italian.

"You're coming with us on this one," said Craig.

Actor nodded and got up to go to the briefing. He remained silent throughout the session, neither asking questions nor offering suggestions. Afterwards, just as silently, he went up the stairs to get his things together. Craig watched him go.

Terry walked up to her brother, eyes also on the Italian's back.

"I don't know," said Craig.

"Maybe it'll be all right," said Terry hopefully. "Maybe he just needs to get back into the swing of things."

"That better be it."

_**To Be Continued**_


End file.
